


Tomorrow will be kinder

by Readingfanfics



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mycroft Meddles, Past Addiction, Slow Burn, Tears, banter and snark, donovan is not nice, drugs and alcohol, john is a bastard, john is not good, mean comments, mentions of murder ( cases), running away from conversations, sherlock stutters when he's nervous/upset, soft moments, soft touches, taking care of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:39:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8394853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: After Sherlock tells John how he feels about him, John reacts badly, leaving Baker Street and a devestated and heartbroken Sherlock behind. Sherlock goes to the one person who has always been there for him, Greg Lestrade, and it's the beginning of a change in their relationship.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------I've started with posting the first 2 chapters, just so you get a feel of the story ahead, from then on it will be a weekly update ( probably Friday). This story is complete!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Attention please! This is a Sherstarde story, the endgame is Sherlock and Lestrade. If you do not like this then please don't start the story. John is really not a nice person in this one and will be 'seen' only once, in other parts he will just be mentioned. 
> 
> I urge you to read all the tags before beginning this story, I tried my best to include all the things that seem important to know before hand. Never the less, if you feel something needs to be added contact me and I'll think about adding it.  
> Just wanted to say that I do like John Watson, I'm not an anti John, just for this story it worked out better if John was a whole lot Not Good.  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In all the years Greg had known Sherlock, the genius had called him about 10 times. Three of those were about a case and needing assistance 'now, now now'. Four had been disconnected before Greg could even find his mobile to pick it up. The other three had been bad night calls, in those days they were more like bad month calls.

 

Those had been the times when Sherlock was broken and lost. Sad and confused. Angry and lonely. Those calls always made Greg's heart break some more. They were probably the reason he had gotten grey so early on in life. Those calls had been the worst to hear, the worst to get out off, to move forward from. To forget.

 

Since John was in Sherlock's life, Sherlock almost never called. No, these days Sherlock texted. Mostly about cases.

 

**Find purple sweater. If it's in the bedroom the mother did it. If not, question the brother. SH**

 

**Ex girlfriend was with best friend 2 night ago. If there is 'Midnight Rose' in house arrest ex girlfriend. SH**

 

**Father beated his son. Talk to son. Don't let Anderson near the crime scene. SH**

 

Today however he got a different text. He starred at his phone for a long time, blinking his eyes and looking at the message again.

 

**Can I come over. Please? SH**

 

It wasn't the coming over part. Sherlock had been in Greg's flat many times, to withdrawal, to warm up, to go over cold cases when he felt the pull of boredom. It was the please after that. Sherlock wasn't known for his niceness and social skills. Greg was pretty sure Donovan genuinely hated the man, though he had never figured out why and he didn't dare ask.

 

Sherlock was a flavor you got use to he supposed. Or he was just a flavor you loved or hated on the spot. And more often then not the scales tipped to hate quickly. It was a shame really, beneath all that 'I'm a sociopath' bullshit, there was a compassionate, caring, feeling human being. Greg had asked once why he solved crime. It wasn't for the credit, he avoided his name in the paper at all costs and he hated being photographed.

 

“I like solving puzzles.” Sherlock had answered but Greg wasn't convinced that was the reason. Maybe it was part of it, finding out he was more cleaver then the murderer, amaze an audience with his deduction skills, but Greg thought the biggest reason for Sherlock to work cases was because he cared for the victims and their families.

 

He shook himself out of his thoughts and mild shock and texted back.

 

Off at 7. Key in the usual spot.

 

Greg really hoped Sherlock would use the key this time. The first time Sherlock had visited his flat it had been the middle of the night. Greg had woken up by a crash and someone cursing and he went to the living room, baseball bat in hand, heart racing too damn fast for a policeman. He'd nearly knocked Sherlock on the head that night, realizing just in time it was the genius flopped down on his couch. Shivering and bundle up in his coat. Instead of knocking the door, or ringing the bell like a normal person he'd picked the window and knocked over a vase while climbing in.

 

Since then Sherlock had gotten in by another window, picking the lock on his frontdoor and one spectacular time by just kicking the door in. Greg really hoped Sherlock would use the key this time.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tells Greg what happend between him and John. Greg comes to his aid.  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day went by fast and before Greg realized it was 7.15.

 

“Bugger.” He stood up, closing his computer and grabbing his coat. He didn't want Sherlock waiting too long. Something about the text still clung to Greg and he had a bad feeling. He got into his car and made a stop to his favorite take out place. He hoped Sherlock would be hungry.

 

He opened the door of his flat, at least the door wasn't kicked in, and called out for Sherlock. He pulled off his coat, placed the bag on the kitchen table and headed to the living room.

 

“There you are, I hope you used the key this time. Holy crap Sherlock, what happened!” Greg sprinted to the sofa, hands landing on Sherlock's skinny frame and taking him in. Sherlock had a black eye and a bloody noise, the blood was already dried. Greg noticed traces of tears and his heart stopped.

 

“What the.”

 

Sherlock didn't look at him so Greg placed a finger on his chin and gently pulled up his head. Sherlock's eyes were shining with unshed tears and Greg didn't think. He wrapped himself around Sherlock and pressed him tight against his chest. He felt Sherlock shake against him, tiny sobs coming out of him and he pulled him closer.

 

“It's okay Sherlock. It's okay, it's fine now. Shhh. I've got you.” He kept whispering nonsense, stroking Sherlock's curls and holding him till he felt Sherlock calm down. He let go and held out a clean handkerchief from his pocket.

 

Sherlock accepted it but didn't say a word. Greg saw his swollen eyes and a light blush on his cheeks.

 

“I have some take out with me. You eaten yet?” Greg got up, waiting for Sherlock's response and smiled a little when Sherlock shook his head no.

 

“Okay, I'll get that ready for us and you can use the bathroom to clean up.”

 

Sherlock quietly went to the bathroom and closed the door. Greg pulled out the bags and started placing the food in different bowls. He set it all down on the dinning table. He found some non alcoholic beer and grabbed those. There wasn't any alcohol in the house since his dad had died and he of course knew Sherlock's history with addiction.

 

Sherlock came out of the bathroom, a little more controlled then before, he pulled of his coat and went to the table, tugging at his food.

 

Greg stayed quite, kicking off his shoes and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt before eating and enjoying his favorite dish. He let out an embarrassing sound as the first bite went into his mouth.

 

“You're not going to ask?” Sherlock said after a while, not looking at Greg.

 

“Nope, I'm sure if you want me to know you'll tell me.” Greg took a swing of his beer, finishing up his plate and looking at Sherlock's head. He was relieved when Sherlock ate more then half of his food, drinking the whole bottle of beer before pushing the plate away and going to the sofa.

 

“I. I told John how I feel. About him.” Greg almost dropped the tableware on the ground. He left it on the counter and turned around, trying to hide his surprise. He'd always thought Sherlock had deep feelings for John but until now Sherlock had never talked about it. He took the stabs and laughs from the people at the Yard in stride and never conformed or denied it. John would mostly lash out to others, saying they weren't a couple, he wasn't gay. Sherlock was good at hiding the hurt from those comments but Greg had know him long enough to see it in Sherlock's eyes.

 

“I take it, it didn't go well.” Greg said calmly, gesturing to Sherlock's black eye. He tightened his hands to fists, rage bubbling up inside him. Nobody had a right to lay a hand on Sherlock like that, not even his best friend. Though Greg wasn't really sure someone who did _that_ was a true friend to begin with.

 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, staring at Greg's fists, he curled up tighter and Greg felt a stab of pain. He took a deep breath, willing himself to uncurl his fists. He went to sit on the opposite sofa, facing Sherlock, placing his hands on his knees. Sherlock watched him, a tiny breath of relief escaping him and Greg cursed himself. He would never hurt Sherlock. Never. _Damnit John!_

 

“No, it didn't go well.” Sherlock's voice broke and Greg wanted to hug him again. But he knew better then to do that. Now was not the time. He leaned back in the seat, crossing his legs, waiting for Sherlock to say more.

 

“He's moving out. Says he can't stay with _someone like me_.” The disgust in that sentence made Greg's skin crawl.

 

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with you! You know that right?” Greg had leaped out of the sofa, sitting next to the man, taking his hands and holding them. “You didn't do anything wrong. If John can't deal with that, it's on him. Not you.”

 

Sherlock shook his head, keeping his eyes on their hands. Greg was stroking Sherlock's palm with his thumb.

 

“I should have seen, Lestrade. I should have know John wasn't. That he would never.” Sherlock sighed in frustration. “I should have known.”

 

Greg didn't know what to say to that, he let go of Sherlock's hands, getting up and going to the kitchen to make some hot coco. It was one of Sherlock's favorite drinks and he needed something nice tonight.

 

“Is it okay if I stay here tonight. I can't go back.”

 

Sherlock took the mug, a tiny smile on his face and sipped carefully.

 

“Hmn, that's really good. Thank you.”

 

Greg again did his best to hide his surprise, Sherlock saying thank you for something was so uncommon. It was even weirder cause he sounded sincere. Greg smiled back, sitting down next to him again and taking the remote.

 

“Anything you wanna watch?” He flipped through channels and stopped at a movie, he lowered the sound, settling himself more comfortable.

 

“That's fine Lestrade. I don't watch a lot of TV anyways.”

 

Sherlock kept sipping his drink, slowly relaxing as they watch the movie. Greg startled a little when Sherlock's hand rested on his thigh.

 

“You won't tell anyone. This is between us right?” Sherlock kept his eyes on the TV but Greg heard the doubt in his voice. He looked over, seeing a blush on Sherlock's face, from the hot drink or the embarrassment he couldn't tell. He reached out his hand, stroking Sherlock's cheek, making Sherlock look at him.

 

“Of course I won't. You can trust me Sherlock.”

 

After a while Sherlock fell asleep on Greg's shoulder and Greg didn't have the heart to move him so they slept on the sofa together. Greg's arm around Sherlock's back, Sherlock's hand on Greg's thigh. He would be sore the next morning but for tonight he didn't care.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter ( chapter 3) will be posted Friday 4 November. Tell me what you think about it so far in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has past after John has left and Greg can still see the effects it has on Sherlock.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Greg looked at Sherlock, walking around the crime scene, taking in everything there was to know. It really was fascinating to see him work, and in all the years he had known the genius, it still felt like magic. How Sherlock saw everything and just knew, it was amazing. He'd wished he'd complimented him more about it. Wished he'd had the guts to just tell Sherlock how amazing Greg thought he was. He didn't hear it enough and Greg had soon figured out Sherlock had a very low idea of himself.

 

Why in the world he had it was beyond Greg but it was there. And every stab and insult his crew threw Sherlock's way didn't help. Before, John had been there to back Sherlock up, stand by his side and defend him. Now he was alone again and Greg could tell the insults hurt him even more now then ever before. He did the best he could but he wasn't John and for some reason it made Sherlock irritated and angry when he interfered.

 

Suddenly Sherlock turned, mouth open to say something but then he stopped. A look of disbelieve and confusion was on his face and Greg's heart ached. He'd seen Sherlock do this a couple of times after John had left. It had been a month now and Sherlock still looked lost and broken.

 

Greg sighed, rubbing his face to try and keep sharp and focused. It had been a tough week, with a big case that had taking up all their time and energy. Now they were standing in the middle of nowhere, already dark and cold and Greg was sure it would start raining soon. He just really, desperately, wanted to go home, take a warm bath, change into soft clothes and go to bed.

 

“That's it! Of course, why didn't I see it sooner?!”

 

Greg nearly jumped when Sherlock spoke up, already moving towards him, excitement and glee in his eyes. Greg loved that look, it made Sherlock seem younger, more open. He really was like a kid at Christmas sometimes when he finally figured it out.

 

“You going tell me or do I need to guess?”

 

He couldn't keep the smile of his face when Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 

“Of course I'll tell you. If we have to wait till you guessed it we will be here all night.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Sherlock gave a tiny smile and Greg's heart soared. He'd not seen the man smile in a while since John had left and even this tiny one, at his expense, was enough to make Greg have hope. Sherlock would come back from this. Okay, maybe he was broken now but he'd come back stronger and better then ever. Greg would make sure of that. _Bastard!_ Thinking of John made tension seep into his body and he mentally shook his head, trying to get rid of his thoughts. This was not the time.

 

“I. Lestrade?”

 

Greg's eyes met Sherlock's and he cursed himself. The genius was looking at him funny, his expression closed off, his shoulders tense. Of course he'd seen that.

 

“Go on Sherlock. Tell me what you got, it's getting late and we all want to go home.”

 

Sherlock's gaze went over him one last time before he started explaining who did the murder and why. Greg wrote down some things in his notebook, asked a few more questions and all thoughts of John were out of his mind by the time he raced to his car, calling for Donovan and heading off to capture their suspect.

 

The work week wasn't over yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (chapter4) will be posted 11 November. Tell me what you think so far in the comments!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tough case makes Greg desperate to forget, reaching for the bottle but Sherlock is there with something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer then chapter 3. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Next chapter will be posted Friday 18 November.  
> \--------------------------------------------

**Are you alright? SH**

 

Greg wanted to slam the phone against the wall after reading, and then, rereading the message. Of course he wasn't all right. Right now he wasn't sure if he'd ever be again. _The world is so fucked up!_

 

He sighed, releasing the death grip on his phone when he realised his knuckles were turning white. He placed it on the coffee table, rubbing his eyes and sighing again. He nearly jumped out of his skin, when a new message arrived.

 

**You shouldn't blame yourself. You did all you could. SH**

 

His mouth formed a thin line, and he felt his body tense. _All I could, like hell I did!_ He was too wound up to stay still so he started pacing the floor. Up and down, up and down, his mind buzzing with images of fire, smoke, heat and screams. The screams. He nearly fell to the floor when he remembered the sounds. It had been agonizing, heartbreaking, like a locked up animal. He felt tears form in his eyes and he headed to the kitchen.

 

His finger were just about to screw open the bottle of whiskey when the doorbell rang and he jumped out of his skin, again, almost dropping the bottle to the ground. He was shaking, heart racing inside his chest as he tried to take deep breaths. The bell rang again, loud and persistent and he cursed. He really didn't want to go and answer it, didn't want to see or talk to people. All he wanted to do was forget.

 

He crossed the distance from his kitchen to the front door and stood still as he saw the knob being turned, the door opening slowly. _Damnit!_ He didn't even have anything to defend himself with. He'd been too distracted to try and stay calm, to just breath, he hadn't heard a thing. He frantically looked around for something, anything to use but the door fell open completely and a familiar form entered.

 

“Lestrade.”

 

“Sherlock?”

 

Greg blinked as Sherlock held up his hand before stepping in further, closing the door behind him. He had a bag of take away in his other hand and Greg's stomach rumbled as the smell entered his nose.

 

“I brought food. I figured you hadn't eaten yet.”

Sherlock looked unsure, shuffling his feet as he looked Greg over. His eyes widened and he was about to say something but stopped himself. Instead he just held up the bag.

 

“Hungry?”

Greg shook his head, blinking his eyes as he watched Sherlock standing there, waiting for a response.

 

“Why? Why are you here?”

 

Greg moved and Sherlock walked in further, putting the bag on the coffee table and taking off his coat. He sat in the same spot as last time, crossing his legs, looking at Greg.

 

“I saw you leave. You didn't look- I mean- You. It seemed like you could use a friend.”

 

Sherlock's eyes went down, fidgeting with his fingers and Greg thought he looked adorable.

 

“Sherlock. I'm not- the best company right now.”

 

He felt broken and shaky and he wasn't sure if he could deal with Sherlock tonight.

 

“So? Neither am I on my best days.”

 

Greg snorted when he saw Sherlock's little smile. He sighed and walked over to the sofa, sitting on the other side and gesturing to the bag.

 

“What did you bring?”

 

Sherlock looked proud when he reached for the bag and started pulling containers out, it smelled like heaven.

 

“All your favourites of course, not too spicy, not too sweet.”

 

Sherlock handed him a container and fork, their fingers brushing when he took it with a soft thank you. Sherlock smiled again, this time it was a bit bigger and Greg felt a soft blush form on his cheeks.

 

“Hmn, tastes amazing. Thank you Sherlock. I needed this.”

 

Greg gestured to the space between them and the food. He already felt better with food inside his belly, the warmth of it warming him up too. Sherlock ate all of his food, emptying his plate and Greg couldn't hide a pleased smile at the sight.

 

“Stop it Lestrade, I haven't eaten for the last 3 days. I'm starving.”

 

Sherlock took the last bite and got up to the kitchen. Greg winched as Sherlock came back, bottle in hand, an eyebrow raised in question.

 

“I.”

 

“Seems like I got here just in time. I'm taking this with me when I leave. You don't need it.”

 

Greg felt shame raise inside him, his face turning scarlet and he looked down, staring at his empty plate while he heard Sherlock rummaging around.

 

“Hey, if anyone can understand, it's me. Don't put yourself down too much over it. Nothing happened, right?”

 

Sherlock placed his hand on Greg's shoulder and Greg shook his head. No, he was still quite sober, 13 years and counting. He'd come close tonight but Sherlock had been there, just in time. Even after all these years it was still a battle. At least tonight he didn't have to fight it alone.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He could only whisper it, taking the glass Sherlock offered, just plain lemonade, and gesturing to Sherlock's empty plate.

 

“Still can't believe you actually do eat.”

 

Greg snickered lightly as Sherlock rolled his eyes, calling him 'idiot' under his breath.

 

It wasn't till much later, after watching some movies, talking about everything and nothing, that Greg saw Sherlock out. Before he could think about it too much he grabbed Sherlock in a tight hug for a few seconds, whispering another _'thank you'_ in his ear. Sherlock froze for a millisecond before relaxing, wrapping his arms around Greg and squeezing him tight, answering with an equally soft _'anytime'_.

 

When Greg finally made it to bed, already drifting off to sleep he realize Sherlock hadn't asked questions. He hadn't asked for Greg to tell him what had happened, how he felt about it, how he could help. He fell asleep with an enourmous feeling of gratitude towards the genius.

 

Somehow, Sherlock always knew what he needed before he even did.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg meets an old 'friend' and things don't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it had to happen sometime.... Hope you enjoy!  
> \-------------------------------------------------

London was a big and vast city, with 8,6 million people living in it. Unfortunately sometimes even that wasn't big and vast enough.

 

Greg had spotted John instantly in the crowd, coming right towards him and he didn't have time to turn and go the other way. Their eyes connected and Greg saw John's eyes go a bit wider, a frown starting on his face. _Well, I'm not to happy to see you either._

 

“Greg. Hello, how are things?”

 

John asked, a fake smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes. Greg saw the stiffness in his posture and heard it in his voice. Greg shook John's hand briefly, bordering on unkind and shoved his hands in his pockets. No need to add temptation.

 

“Work keeping me busy. The usual stuff.”

 

Greg shrugged a shoulder, noticing the way John wasn't really looking at him. He was scanning left and right, probably looking for a way out of this conversation and Greg felt a new wage of irritation run through him.

 

“Yes! I read about the Constance Accola case in the paper. You did great work.”

 

Greg's body tensed at the name. Constance Accola had been a 14 year old girl, abducted by some lunatic that wanted to 'start a life with her'. They'd found her in an old, abandoned villa, malnourished, heavily burned and tortured. She'd been returned to her parents and little brother, the perv locked behind bars but cases like these never felt like a true success. The girl had been through hell and back, would probably have mental scars for life. He couldn't save all the people in his city, he knew that, but on cases like these that logic just wasn't enough.

 

“You should give your praise to Sherlock. He did all the hard work.”

Greg's voice hardened at the mention of Sherlock's name, his hand twitched when he saw John's expression go down and dark.

 

“Yes, well.”

 

“Of course, after all that has happened maybe that's not the best thing to do.”

 

Greg raised an eyebrow and saw John straighten, ready to fight.

 

“Now listen...”

 

Greg took a big step forward, crowding John's space and looking down at the man.

 

“No! You listen. I don't know the full history of events between you two and frankly, I don't care. I do know what an effect it had on Sherlock and you are very lucky that I am a DI and have standards to live by cause right now, this very moment, I want to break your nose.”

 

He saw John's eyes go wide in surprise and felt a surge of victory go though him.

 

“I hope for your sake you don't try to reconnect with Sherlock.”

 

“Is that a threat Greg?”

 

John raised his brows in question, crossing his arms over each other.

 

“Take it any way you like, _John_. Just know that next time I won't be so in control like I am today. You're not the man I thought you were.” For a second Greg thought he saw a flash of regret in John's eyes but it was gone too soon to really be sure.

 

“Bugger of Greg! You don't know a thing about me.”

 

“Maybe. I do know how to treat my friends and it sure as hell isn't like you treated Sherlock.”

 

Greg's face headed up as images of Sherlock came to mind. Sobbing, heartbroken with a split lip and the beginning of a black eye.

 

“Sherlock deserve better then you anyway.”

 

“Like who? You?”

 

John huffed out a laugh, a smirk on his lips.

 

“That's it, isn't it? You want to bang Sherlock but couldn't cause I was in the way. Well, have at it, I'm sure you two will be.... AAAAGGRRRR, FUCKING HELL!”

 

Greg shook his hand as John grabbed his noise, swearing and cursing. People around them stopped and starred but nobody went over to them.

 

“Walk away, _Watson_. You're a bastard and a coward and Sherlock doesn't need you. Enjoy your life.”

 

With that, Greg turned and left, head bowed as people made way for him to walk through. His hand was aching, his heart throbbing and for a long while he couldn't suppress the smile on his face. _Serves him right!_

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hears about Greg's encounter and is furious. Things are discussed and talked about and emotions rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do like talking so this chapter is a bit longer then chapter 5. Enjoy!   
> \--------------------------------------------------

The door to his office flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. Greg nearly jumped out of his chair at the sound. He'd been so busy cleaning up the last of his paperwork for that day his heart hammered in his chest as he took in the man before him.

“Jesus Sherlock! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What is going on?!”

 

Sherlock rounded his desk,closing the door with another loud bang and grabbed Greg's right hand. Greg winched at the firm grip and Sherlock's face darkened.

 

“So it's true. What the hell where you thinking?! Clearly you weren't thinking at all! Why did you do it?! Why?!”

 

Sherlock was seething, looking at Greg's bruised hand. He'd hit John harder then he'd thought and his knuckles still felt sore. He actually didn't mind, every time his hand stinged it reminded him of the reason why it hurt and that made it all worth it.

 

“Don't you dare be proud about it!”

 

Sherlock dropped his hand, taking a step back, arms crossed.

 

“Why Lestrade? What are you? Five?”

 

Greg held up his hands in surrender, locking eyes with Sherlock.

 

“Do you really need to ask me that?”

 

“Of course I need to ask you that! You hit another person, in brought daylight, with witnesses. You could be suspended or worse if- if John decides to lay charges on you.”

 

Sherlock had thrown his hands up in the air, confusion clear on his face as he kept looking at Greg. For all the brilliance he had, some things Sherlock would never understand.

 

“I don't care.”

 

Greg's voice was stern as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

 

“You d- don't care. You don't... Are you i- insane? Have you finally reach the point of insanity?”

 

Sherlock started walking up and down his office, coat bellowing behind him as he kept talking.

 

“I know you are in close contact with idiots on a daily basis Lestrade but I never thought it would rub off on you! Why in the world would you do that? It doesn't make any s- sense at all. He didn't hurt you after all so why...”

 

“Cause he hurt you Sherlock! He hit you! Remember? He almost broke your noise! You had a black eye that lasted for days! DAYS, SHERLOCK! He was suppose to be your friend and he did that! He's very lucky I didn't see him just after cause I would have killed him! THAT BASTARD!”

 

Greg had exploded, his voice filling his office and Sherlock had stopped in the middle of his pacing, eyes wide, mouth open as he listened to Greg's rant.

 

“He deserves far worse then a broken noise, far worse! He spilt your lip Sherlock! He drew blood! You came to my doorstep, MY DOORSTEP, shaking and broken and I wanted to kill him! Then I saw him the other day and he looked so- so smug. And he said...”

 

Greg stopped, taking a breath. During his speech he'd gotten up of his chair, closing the distance between him and Sherlock and Greg realised he had Sherlock's arms in a tight grip. Sherlock was still looking at him with shock and something else. Sherlock's eyes went to Greg's hands around his arm and Greg's stomach dropped. Fear. The other thing in his eyes had been fear.

 

“Oh my. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean. Did I hurt you? Are you all right?”

 

Greg stepped back, dropping his hands near his side. Sherlock looked down as his hands rubbed over the spot Greg had held in a death grip.

 

“I'm sorry Sherlock.”

 

“That's what he said. Right after he...”

 

Sherlock looked up, a cold and distant look in his eyes as he scanned Greg's face.

 

“I'm not John.” Greg's mouth went down in a frown, hands clenched into fists.

 

“Aren't you?”

 

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, crossing his arms once more.

 

“No. I'm not. I would never hurt you. That, what happened now, I. It's inexcusable. I'm sorry. It won't ever happen again.”

 

Greg's voice stilled as his throat tightened. The idea of hurting Sherlock, of leaving bruises on his arms was almost too much. He stumbled backwards and Sherlock leaped forward, catching his arm to steady him.

 

“I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was thinking. I won't ever touch you again. I promise.”

 

He whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears and shame as Sherlock didn't let go. He wanted to stand like this forever, grounded by Sherlock's touch, smelling him, hearing him breath in and out.

 

“It's f- fine Greg. I know you aren't like John. But what you did was stupid. You shouldn't have done that, certainly not for s- someone like me.”

 

Greg created some space between them, trying to catch Sherlock's eye.

 

“What do you mean? Someone like you?”

 

Sherlock blinked his eyes fast, a faint blush forming on his cheeks while he bit his bottom lip. Greg swallow past a lump in his throat at the sight.

 

“Sherlock?”

 

Sherlock's eyes snapped up, razor sharp focus all on Greg. It was still intense when he did that.

 

“You know what I mean Lestrade. A junkie. A freak. A robot without a heart. The weird guy that likes solving crimes and running around London all night long for the next clue. The clever one. The gay flatmate that leads people on. ”

 

Greg was taking aback by the venom in Sherlock's words. He reached out but caught himself in time.

 

“Stop it Sherlock! That's not true and you know it! It's not true!”

 

Sherlock was shaking his head, mouth already opening to form a response and Greg placed a finger on Sherlock's lips.

 

“Shht! Let me talk Sherlock and please listen.”

 

If it had been anything less serious Greg would have laughed at the comical look on Sherlock's face. His eyes were huge as he tried to look at Greg's finger on his lips. Greg slowly removed it, trying not to think too much about what he had just done and the way Sherlock had started moving forward as soon as Greg removed his finger.

 

“You are an ex junkie, just like I am an ex alcoholic. It doesn't make you less. It doesn't mean other people are better then you. You are not a freak! You just see the world differently, you have an interest for things that other's don't. That makes them boring and close minded, it doesn't make you a freak. I've know you for a long time now Sherlock and you are anything but a robot. If you ask me, I think you care too much sometimes. Don't look so shocked, we both know that sociopath stuff is just bollocks to annoy away people you don't like.”

 

Greg huffed a laugh as Sherlock scowled. He had a pout on his face like a little kid and Greg wanted to smooth it over with his finger. _Sweet Jesus, focus!_

 

“What I did, it was stupid. It was foolish. But I don't regret it. You are _my friend_ Sherlock, even if you don't see me like that. You are. And I'll be damned if I'll let someone like John Watson lay a hand on you and not do something about it. It's like I told him Sherlock, he's very lucky I didn't go after him the same night you stood on my doorstep.”

 

Sherlock looked even more shocked, his mouth was doing that O shape and Greg's body ached at the disbelief in Sherlock's eyes.

 

“Why are you finding this all so shocking, Sherlock? Do you really think I'd be okay with it that someone split your lip and gave you a black eye? Or that people would call you names behind your back while on crime scenes.”

 

Sherlock's gaze went down, fingers fidgeting.

 

“It hurts me Sherlock. Just thinking about that night. It makes me sick. Seeing the way you react to those insults, I want to tear them apart. Every time. Every single time.”

 

“It's not your fight Lestrade! I'm not some weak, innocent, damsel in distress that you have to protect and defend every time someone looks at me funny! I can take care of my own! I've been doing it all my life. Why would I suddenly need you?!”

 

Sherlock looked furious but Greg saw a hint of something else in his eyes. Sherlock was ready to turn and storm out but Greg caught his wrist. He couldn't let Sherlock leave like this, for some reason it was important he didn't leave. At least Sherlock didn't flinch when Greg's fingers connected to Sherlock's wrist.

 

“I'm not saying you need me Sherlock. I know you are capable of handling your own. I know that. But, is it so bad of me to want to reach out? Does it make me a bad man to want to be your friend? Sherlock. Don't you see that I like you? I have so much respect for you, so much admiration. When you solve a case I feel pride. When people only see the brain I feel upset cause you are so much more then that. And anyone who can't treat you with respect, who can't treat you right is a waste of time. I will always be there, to be your friend, to help you, protect you, defend you. Is that so wrong?”

 

Greg let go of Sherlock's wrist and Sherlock stepped back. A closed off look on his face.

 

“I. I need to go.” Sherlock whispered, his gaze again to the floor.

 

“Sherlock.”

 

Greg stepped closer and it broke his heart when Sherlock took a step back, creating distance once more.

 

“I-I can't do this. Not now, not here. I need to go.”

 

Sherlock's voice broke and Greg stood frozen on the spot. Sherlock looked up quickly, a storm of emotions in his eyes, too fast to pin down. Sherlock opened his mouth to say more but decided against it, reaching out and opening the door instead. With one last glance he left Greg behind, that damn coat bellowing behind him

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comes to Greg's flat and askes him a question that's been on his mind latley. Greg wants to hit John all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited by this chapter and I hope you like it too. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for sneek peeks and other stories: Readingfanficswrites.

Greg was just dozing off in front of the TV when his doorbell rang and he startled awake. Heart still pounding too fast in his chest he went to open the door and froze.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

Sherlock looked unsure and shy at Greg's face, fingers interlaced as he went slightly back and fort on the balls of his feet.

 

Greg stepped back, gesturing for Sherlock to come in and Sherlock gave a little, unsure smile as he brushed past. Greg closed the door, taking the time to shake of the disbelief at Sherlock on his doorstep.

 

After what had happened in the station two nights ago he wasn't sure he'd ever see the genius again. Unfortunately there hadn't been a spectacular case so he didn't have an excuse to text Sherlock, to see him. He knew texting him to ask how he was doing would be left unanswered and would probably irritate Sherlock more. So, having Sherlock inside his flat now was a bit of a surprise.

 

He turned around, taking in the genius. Sherlock was sitting on his usual spot on the sofa, having taking off his coat and placed it on a chair. He seemed deep in thought, looking at the TV screen but not absorbing what was being shown.

 

Greg went over and turned it off, taking a seat on the opposite sofa, leaning back and waiting for Sherlock to start talking. He didn't dare break the silence first, he'd said more then enough the last time and the thought of it made him want to growl with embarrassment. Sherlock wasn't a robot no, but he wasn't very open about his feelings either. Nor could he handle other people's feelings well and Greg felt like shit for dumping that all on the man last night.

 

The silence stretched on and Greg was about to speak up when Sherlock suddenly started talking, eyes still fixed on the TV.

 

“I didn't mean to run away like that last night. What you said, it gave me things to think about and I couldn't do that there. I needed some time to- to sort everything out.”

 

Sherlock's gaze went to Greg's face for a second and Greg nodded, he could understand where Sherlock was coming from. Sherlock gave another small, unsure smile and continued.

 

“I'm sorry I lashed out at you. I know you don't see me as weak. And I do see you as a friend, you should never again doubt that. I'm not- not the best person to show how I care but you- you are important to me Lestrade. Even Moriarty figured that out, long before I did.”

 

A pained expression crossed Sherlock's face and Greg's fingers twitched to reach out. Hearing Sherlock say that he considered him a friend made him feel giddy and proud. He hadn't lied when he told Sherlock he admired him. Some days he even wanted to be more like him, clever, observant, amazing. He swallowed down the lump in his throat as Sherlock carried on.

 

“I've always taking you for granted. I've never before realised how you are always there for me. Even in the very beginning, when I was high, rude and obnoxious, you saw something in me. You saw that I could be more and you gave me a chance. Many chances in fact. I think you have more faith in me then Mycroft does.”

 

Greg sucked in a breath. He knew the relationship between Sherlock and his brother was complicated at the best of times but Mycroft would change the orbit of the earth to keep his brother safe. Sherlock looked at Greg again and didn't break eye contact.

 

“Then I met John and well.” There was an edge of sorrow and anger in his tone at the mention of John's name. Greg still had a very hard time believing that John could have done that, after all they had been through together. Greg had been sure, the moment he saw Sherlock and John together that it would be a good thing. He'd had hope when he'd seen them talk and banter, teasing him, standing up to Mycroft and his stalkery ways.

 

“I should have figured it out sooner I guess. John fell in awe with my deductions and fast brain. He didn't see the rest of me. Or he didn't care, I'm still not sure. I do know he played me very efficiently. I-I was a fool Lestrade. I started seeing things I thought were prove he felt the same. I guess even the _'great Sherlock Holmes'_ gets it wrong from time to time.”

 

Sherlock gave a laugh that was filled with disgust and Greg started getting up.

 

“No! Please, just stay there. I need to say this and I can't do it when you're close to me.”

 

Sherlock held up his hands in despair and Greg sat down again, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders as he did. Not being allowed to go over and just place a hand on the genius' shoulder was almost too much to bare but he clasped his hands together in his lap, forcing himself to do just that. It was what Sherlock needed after all. He gave a sharp nod and Sherlock's shoulders sagged in relief. It felt like a punch to the stomach.

 

“I was furious when I found out what you did. Yes, Mycroft told me.” Sherlock sighed as Greg closed his mouth again. He still wasn't entirely convinced Sherlock couldn't read minds.

 

“I was furious, not because you hit John, but because you did it there. All those people that saw it, no way to deny it if John wanted to file charges against you. You really didn't think about the consequences of your actions. You could have been seriously damaged by this and for what? Me, of all people.”

 

Greg heard the disbelieve in Sherlock's voice again. Sherlock ran a hand through his hair and his curls got even more tangled and messed up. Greg wondered if they felt as soft as they looked.

 

“I still stand by the fact that it wasn't worth it. Yes, John hit me that night and yes, it hurt like hell but it was over and done with. When I think about that night again I feel shame. Shame that I didn't figure it out, shame that I let myself to believe John loved me too. Shame that I came to you, when all these years I've just taking you for granted.”

 

“Sherlock!”

 

“No! Don't. It's the truth. I don't- don't deserve you as a friend Greg. You did that for me and the truth is I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you.”

 

Sherlock got up from the sofa, pacing the space just before it, throwing sideway glances at Greg.

“I see you as my friend, probably my only true and best friend, but I shouldn't. I shouldn't be around you. I shouldn't come here in the middle of the night every time I have a bad night. I shouldn't use you like this. You deserve more. So much more and I- I can't...”

 

Greg jumped out of the sofa, going to Sherlock's side and wrapped Sherlock in a hug as the man broke down. Tears were falling of his cheeks, soaking up in Greg's sweater as Sherlock's arms wrapped around his waist and clung to him.

 

Greg rubbed Sherlock's back, holding him firmly, whispering nonsense in his ear as Sherlock cried and cried.

“I'm-I'm sorry. I'm- not-not worth it. They are r-right after all. I-I ruin everything. I'm s-sorry.”

 

Sherlock rattled on, the words being cut of by heavy sobs and Greg guided Sherlock back to the sofa, hugging him tightly, not stopping the up and down motion on Sherlock's back.

 

He started speaking when Sherlock had calmed down, wiping away the evidence of his break down with a tissue Greg fetched for him.

 

“You didn't do anything wrong Sherlock. So you fell for the wrong person? We all do that once or twice in our life. Falling in love is not wrong, telling that person how you feel about them is not wrong. The only one that did something wrong was John. He didn't have the right to hit you. He was wrong! Not you. Here, drink this.”

 

Greg gave Sherlock a big glass of water and Sherlock gulped it down.

 

“I know you don't agree with me, but like I told you before, I don't regret my actions. We'll just have to agree to disagree on that one.”

 

Greg gave a little smile and after a second Sherlock returned it with a small one of his own, and a little eye roll.

 

“Idiot.”

 

Greg let out a laugh as he playfully bumped his shoulder to Sherlocks.

 

“What we do need to agree on is that you are **not** a burden to me Sherlock. You are allowed to come here when you are having a tough time. You are allowed to ask help. You are not using me. When you need support I'm here for you. You may not know this but it's what friends do for each other. Be there, listen, help, watch stupid movies together. It's all in the friends deal Sherlock. It's the least you deserve. So, stop this nonsense of you not deserving my time and attention. You already have it and it's not going away. Ever.”

 

Sherlock placed his glass back on the table before looking at Greg with a question clearly written on his face.

 

“What is it Sherlock?”

 

Of all the things Sherlock could have said next, Greg never had expected this.

 

“Do you? Are you? Do you w-want to have s-sex with me?”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg does the best he can to answer Sherlock's question and Sherlock starts to realize something.

“ _Do you want to have sex with me?”_

 

Greg was grateful for two things; the first was that he was already sitting down and the second for not holding anything that could fall and break.

 

He stared at Sherlock for a long time, trying to process what Sherlock had just asked. It kept swirling around in his head while he looked at the man, without really seeing him. Heat was rising inside him, together with a bunch of other emotions and he couldn't focus.

 

“Greg?”

 

Sherlock placed a gentle hand on his arm and Greg finally snapped out of it. He blinked as a chill went through him, able to speak at last.

 

“I what?”

 

Greg berated himself, this was not the smooth and cool comment he'd wanted to deliver but he couldn't think of something else to say. He blinked again, looking at Sherlock's hand still on his arm and then back up at the man as said man recoiled from him like a snake. It left the spot on his arm feeling cold.

 

“It's a simple question Lestrade, do you want to have sex with me?”

 

Sherlock's voice sounded uncaring and cold but Greg could tell this was a serious question. The problem was that Greg couldn't figure out why it had come up in Sherlock's head in the first place. He looked at Sherlock again, noticing the fidgeting hands, the hardness of his shoulders. He was almost sure he saw some fear and doubt in his eyes and he took a deep breath.

 

“Sherlock, why are you asking me this? Where is this coming from?”

 

Sherlock blushed a lovely red and cast his eyes down. Greg saw him shrink before his eyes and his heart broke. He didn't like hurting Sherlock, he really didn't but this was so out of the blue. He needed data, as Sherlock would say.

 

“Please tell me Sherlock. I won't get upset. I just, you took me by surprise there.”

 

Greg reached out to take Sherlock's hand but dropped it mid move. It didn't seem right for some reason. Sherlock looked through his laces at him, sizing him up.

 

“I. I heard. What I mean is.”

 

Sherlock shook his head violently, his hands going up in frustration. Greg's eyes widened, seeing Sherlock lost for words, the man who had a comeback to _everything_ , was slightly surreal and worrying.

 

“John.”

 

Greg's temper was already rising at the mention of his name. Whatever John had told Sherlock, it wasn't good.

 

“John said you are being so nice to me cause you want something from me. Cause you want to have sex with me. Maybe he's right, why else would you....”

 

Sherlock stopped at the look on Greg's face. He quickly looked down again, nervous and terrified. He shouldn't have brought it up. Why did he always make things worse? _Stupid! Stupid!_

 

“I should have punched him harder. Much harder.”

 

Greg's voice was filled with rage and it send a chill down Sherlock's spine. He sometimes forgot that, how good hearted and kind Greg was, he had an edge to him. An edge that had drawn Sherlock to him in the first place. It was clearly visible now and Sherlock didn't know how he felt about that. His body was feeling quite a lot at the moment to be honest. He kept his eyes down, waiting for Greg to say more but the silence remained and finally Sherlock looked up.

 

“Greg?”

 

Greg's eyes snapped back to Sherlock's and Sherlock felt the air leave his body. They were like a great, dangerous, unpredictable storm and Sherlock was drowning in them. He licked his lips and Greg followed the movement with his eyes. Sherlock felt his neck heat up and he swallowed.

 

“Sherlock. I swear. I _swear_ , whatever John has made you believe, I am **not** being nice to you just so I can fuck you.”

 

Greg grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, not breaking eye contact with Sherlock.

 

“Like I told you before, I see you as a friend. I'm nice to you because you are my friend Sherlock. I would _never_ betray your trust like that.”

 

Sherlock nodded slowly, still drowning in Greg's eyes and he squeezed Greg's hand in return, a little smile on his lips.

 

“I'm sorry Greg, I shouldn't have. I know better. I'm sorry.”

 

“It's fine Sherlock, I'm glad you asked, we need to talk about stuff like this. I don't mind.” Greg shook his head, his face relaxing just a fraction. “Just know that I would never do that. I don't expect that of you, never.”

 

Sherlock nodded again. It was foolish to ever believe Greg would do something like that, foolish to believe Greg would _want_ to do something like that with him. He felt a wave of shame, thinking that for a second Greg would have said 'yes, of course I want to'. He huffed out a sigh, scolding himself for being stupid, for even believing it. That moment when Greg burned him with his eyes, looking at his mouth.

 

He couldn't stay. Suddenly it all felt too much, too intimate. Greg was still holding his hand and now it burned like hell. He pulled out, standing up and Greg moved with him.

 

“Sherlock? Sherlock! What's going on?”

 

Sherlock took his coat from the chair, putting it on and turned to look at Greg. He had to do this right, Greg was again looking at him with worry and Sherlock was sick of it.

 

“Everything is fine Lestrade. I'm sorry I took up so much of your evening, I know you've had a rough couple of days. I have some experiments to return to, don't want Mds. Hudson cross with me again.”

 

Sherlock gave a small smile and a firm nod and went to the door. Greg followed behind, still not convinced.

 

“Are you sure? If there is anything else bothering you then...”

 

“No! It's fine, really.” Sherlock cut him off, opening the door and stepping outside into the darkness of London. He wrapped his coat tight around himself, feeling cold and lonely.

 

“You'll text me when an interesting case comes up?”

 

He looked at Greg over his shoulder, taking the man in one more time. Greg let out a sigh, whatever Sherlock was holding back he wasn't ready to tell him, yet.

 

“Sure Sherlock. Good night. I'm glad you came by tonight. Talk soon.”

 

“Night Lestrade.”

 

Sherlock left before he could say anything more and spill out more embarrassing things. Greg was never to find out how he really felt about him. Not after John. He couldn't handle another heartbreak like that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter ( chapter 9) will be posted 16 December!  
> \------------------------------------------------  
> I have a blog where you can find sneek peeks, updates and writer's tips: http://readingfanficswrites.tumblr.com/


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft has a chat with Greg, one Greg really doesn't want to have. Also, are you allowed to punch the British Goverment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (10) will be posted 23 December!  
> \---------------------------------------------

Greg left to go home but before he could even get his coat on properly a dark, expensive car stopped near him. The door opened and Mycroft Holmes looked at him for a long, hard moment with something in his eyes Greg couldn't figure out.

 

He sighed, whenever Mycroft paid a visit it wasn't good. He grumbled as he finally closed his coat and got in. Greg looked out the window,trying to ignore Mycroft deducing him. He never had a problem when Sherlock did it, Sherlock was just curious and liked to know things just for the sake of knowing them but Mycroft could use it against you, in the worst possible way.

 

“Detective Inspector.”

 

“Christ sake Mycroft. You've known me for years now, Greg is fine.” Greg snapped his head to the right, taking the older Holmes in. As always he was impeccable, not a hair out of place and it irked him. He'd had a long, brutal day and he could use a hot shower, a lot of greasy food and a cold drink. The last thing he needed was Mycroft Holmes playing games with him.

 

“What's going on Mycroft? It must be big if you came all this way. Wait, Sherlock didn't start world war 3 did he?”

 

Mycroft just raised and eyebrow and Greg rolled his eyes.

 

“A joke Mycroft, they call it a joke.”

 

“So I've been told.”

 

Mycroft stared with cold eyes and Greg suppressed a shiver, barely. Mycroft reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thin file. He handed it to Greg with a 'go on' gesture and Greg felt like he was asked to pet a snake.

 

“What's this then?” He asked, opening the file and looking at the photos and papers inside. It took a moment to figure out but then his breath caught and he closed his eyes, slowly counting to 10.

 

“You've been spying on me? Again?”

 

He faced Mycroft, gesturing to the file in his hands.

 

“So you know I punched John, after what he did to Sherlock I should think you of all people would be pleased.” Greg grimaced, looking at himself throwing a punch at John. Seeing it in photograph was more difficult then he had thought. What bugged him more where the papers with text, dialogue between him and Sherlock from a few nights back.

 

“You do realize I'm a DI right? I could have you arrested for this.” Greg thrusted the file back at Mycroft, anger clear in his voice. _The nerve of that man!_

 

“You could always try Detective Inspector. See, what I want to know now, is the truth.”

 

Mycroft leaned closer, capturing Greg with his eyes and Greg swallowed.

 

“What do you mean, the truth?”

 

“Come now Detective Inspector. Don't play dumb with me, we both know you are anything but.” Mycroft allowed a little grin on his face and Greg made fists. He really didn't like where this conversation was going at all.

 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow in waiting and Greg just sat, staring him down as best he could. He was not going to answer to this.

 

“I see.”

 

Mycroft nodded, slipping the file in his briefcase and leaning back again.

 

“You are a curious man Detective Inspector, I can see why Sherlock would be drawn so strongly to you. Specially after the whole _incident_.”

 

Mycroft eyes went to Greg's hands and Greg unfolded his fists. The car was almost back at his flat and he still wasn't sure how he felt about Mycroft Holmes knowing where he lived. And bugging his home apparently.

 

“Don't betray his trust Detective Inspector. The last person he gave his trust to so easily broke his heart. I'm sure you know what's in your best interest.”

 

“If this is a threat.”

 

“Just a friendly reminder.”

 

Mycroft padded his briefcase, casting another cold look at Greg.

 

“This will be dealt with. Good night, Detective Inspector.”

 

Mycroft was gone before Greg could even respond. He just stood in front of his building, watching the now empty space. _What the hell had that been about?_

 

He shook his head and went inside, determined to find each and every one of Mycroft's little bugs.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg realizes something after his 'chat' with Mycroft. Also, he has a dirty mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chaper (11) will be posted 30 December!  
> \----------------------------------------------------

Later, after finding at least 10 bugs and having that well deserved, hot shower Greg was in bed, running the conversations with Sherlock and Mycroft through in his head.

 

Sherlock had been so open and honest that night, and Greg had been sure they'd figured it all out. Until Sherlock had suddenly left, barely looking at Greg. It didn't make sense to Greg and it was pointless trying to figure it out but he couldn't stop repeating it.

 

That moment, Sherlock had looked into his eyes and he'd licked his lips. Just the tip of his tongue, tracing that ridiculous cupid's bow and Greg hadn't been able to look away. He'd seen the heat rise on Sherlock's neck and face and it had snapped him out of it. He'd wanted to kiss Sherlock then, claim that mouth for his own, make him moan and whimper his name. He hated himself for even thinking it.

 

He felt dread at the idea that Sherlock must have known, why else had he left so suddenly, tore away their joined hands like he was on fire. It stung, that look on Sherlock's face before he left and he sighed loudly into the darkness of his room.

 

Of course Sherlock had fled, the man was probably disgusted and didn't have the heart to tell Greg he didn't want him in that way. He'd never want him in that way. No wonder there had been fear and hesitation in his eyes when he'd asked if Greg wanted to have sex with him.

 

Greg turned onto his side, trying not to remember how Sherlock's hands felt in his, the warmth of his skin when they'd hugged, the vulnerability in his eyes.

 

That's why Mcyroft came tonight. Suddenly it all made sense, Mycroft had read the transcripts and being Mycroft had probably known what Greg felt for Sherlock. This was his way of telling him to back off.

 

Greg closed his eyes, he really felt like a creep and an old one at that. Sherlock and him had an age difference of 9 years. Maybe now the gap wasn't so big anymore but when he'd met Sherlock he'd been just a lad. Barely out of school, thinking he knew everything and not afraid to tell the world how superior he was. He'd always felt protective of Sherlock, always wanted to keep him safe and it hadn't changed over the years.

 

Now, after John, those feelings had intensified and he couldn't not stop caring about him, fussing, making sure he was fine. It had made Sherlock irritated and probably he felt belittled. Hitting John hadn't helped much either. What else had John told him? What else had he made Sherlock believe?

 

It frustrated him that, after all these years, just some well placed words were enough to make Sherlock question him. No matter how Greg felt about Sherlock he would never force himself on the man. He would never take, no matter how bad he wanted. Oh and how he wanted.

 

He growled in frustrated and flipped back on his back. He was not going to wank of to Sherlock, thank you very much. Although his cock already felt on fire, imagining Sherlock's lips around it, sucking him off while he watched Greg watch him.

 

Greg's hand slipped under the covers, grabbing his cock and stroking it hard. Sherlock, kissing him with that gorgeous mouth, begging Greg to take him, claim him.

 

He moaned as he stroked faster, imagining it was Sherlock's hand around his cock, urging him on with that velvet voice of his.

 

“That's it Greg, oh, that's it. Come for me Greg, come for me, you're so hot, come for me.”

 

Greg muffled a scream as his orgasm raced through him. He rode it out, thinking of blue/grey eyes and black, soft curls.

 

He took tissues from his night stand, cursing himself as he threw off his pants and cleaned up. This wasn't helping! Wasn't helping at all! If Sherlock ever found out.

 

Greg got goosebumps as he went to get another pants, throwing the dirty ones in the washing machine.

 

At least he'd found all the bugs and camera's in his own bedroom too.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock brings food and company while Greg pulls an all nighter at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter (ch12) will be posted 6 January.  
> \----------------------------------------------  
> And yes... Harry Potter ;)  
> \----------------------------------------------

Greg was pulling an all nighter at the Yard this week. They had an upcoming inspection and suddenly everything needed to be perfect. Everything from new cases, to old cases to just plain medieval cases needed to be put into the system and Greg was doing his part of the workload.

 

He already didn't feel his fingers from all the typing and his back was starting to make itself noticeable. Oh, the joys of getting older. Greg grimaces as he stretch his back and rolled his shoulders. The light of the screen was starting to get too bright and his eyes had that prickly sensation from staring at something too long.

 

He took a deep breath, counted to 10 and released it slowly before getting back to the business at hand. He was so engrossed in his work, finally finding a good rhythm, he only noticed someone else was in his office when the door closed with a bang.

 

He looked up in shock, his heart hammering away in his chest.

 

“Damnit Sherlock! You nearly gave me a heart attack! Again.”

Sherlock smirked and rolled his eyes. He came towards the desk and dropped a bag on top of some old files.

 

“Constant vigilance Lestrade, you aren't doing a very good job of it.”

 

Greg's mouth fell open and Sherlock's smirk got even bigger.

 

“You are banned from Harry Potter from now on. Using it against me like that.”

 

Greg smiled thinking back, it had been a couple of years ago. Sherlock had been in hospital again because of an overdose and Greg was there to keep him company. Greg loved reading and that time he'd been reading Harry Potter. He'd soon found out Sherlock calmed down faster when Greg read and so he'd been up all night, reading Harry Potter to a shaking, sweating, in pain Sherlock. It turned out Sherlock had remembered more then Greg had thought and once Sherlock was out of the hospital Greg had giving him a DVD boxset for his birthday. He never would have thought Sherlock would actually watch them.

 

Sherlock huffed and pulled off his coat before taking a seat. He looked at all the papers on the desk and then at Greg and Greg sighed.

 

“Don't ask. I think they are multiplying as we speak.”

 

Sherlock laughed and Greg's breath caught. Sherlock's laugh was beautiful to hear and Greg wanted to hear it more. He looked over at Sherlock, taking in his deep purpled shirt, the top 2 buttons undone so there was a strip of exposed, pale skin. Greg swallowed at the sight.

 

Sherlock cleared his throat and Greg's eyes got up to the man's face, a tiny smirk on Sherlock's lips. Greg turned light red and gestured to the bag.

 

“What's this then?”

 

Sherlock held Greg's gaze for a second or two, Greg having trouble breathing before Sherlock broke eye contact, looking at the bag and opening it up.

 

“Dinner, you've been here since 7 this morning and you aren't leaving anytime soon. Thought you might by hungry by now.”

 

Greg's stomach made a very embarrassing sound as the smells filled up his office. He gave a sheepish smile and Sherlock raised an eyebrow, handing him a container and some cutlery.

 

“Mmmn, this is glorious Sherlock! Thank you, I really needed that.”

 

Greg sighed happily as he tucked in. Sherlock just shrugged, eaten his own food slowly and a comfortable silence fell between them.

 

It had been a while since they'd last spend time like this. It was nice to be back to normal, at least as close to normal as they could. After all that had happened they'd talked more to each other these past few months then all the years before. Greg got to see new sides of Sherlock and he couldn't get enough. Even this, coming down to the station to give him food was unusual for Sherlock and it made Greg's heart swell thinking about it.

 

“So, what have you been up to these past few days?”

 

After Sherlock had left so suddenly they'd seen each other only two times, both times for the same case. An abduction turned murder. They'd found the culprit hiding in an abandoned hotel, it was a small consolation price. They' been too late to safe the young woman he'd took.

 

“Just some cases for clients, the usual stuff. Nothing exciting but it helps pay the bills.” Sherlock said softly, playing with his food.

 

As far as Greg knew Sherlock hadn't looked for a new roommate after John. He always assumed Mycroft helped financially but lately Sherlock had taking on more work that actually paid him. Greg frowned, watching as Sherlock played more with his food..

 

“Isn't Mycroft...?”

 

Sherlock shot him a look and Greg stopped.

 

“I. I can't keep relying on others.” Sherlock sighed, placing the container back on Greg's desk and crossing his arms.

 

“If you ever need any help, you know you can ask right?” Greg took another bite, watching as Sherlock shook his head.

 

“You've done enough. More then enough, I'll make do. There are plenty of people out there who need a Consulting Detective.”

 

Sherlock smiled and Greg gave one in return, scrapping out the last of his food.

 

“Hmn, that was amazing, what's my share?”

 

Greg got up to his coat, looking for his wallet.

 

“I'm not that broke Lestrade, I don't need your money!”

 

Greg turned around at the angry voice, wallet limp in his hands. Sherlock's eyes were stormy and his shoulders tense.

 

“Okay. I didn't mean that you couldn't... Thank you for dinner Sherlock. It was nice.”

 

Greg tucked his wallet back in his coat, heading back to his desk to clean up the containers.

 

“Guess I better get to it. Don't want to spend another night on this lot. Did you need anything else Sherlock?”

 

Greg watched as Sherlock fidgeted with his hands, his eyes going left and right. It was a clear sign something was on Sherlock's mind and was debating whether or not to bring it up.

 

“Sherlock?”

 

Sherlock snapped out of his reverie, looking at Greg with something like regret in his eyes and Greg couldn't figure out why. Before he could say something, Sherlock stood up, collecting his coat.

 

“No, nothing else. I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay too long. Take care Lestrade. See you later.”

 

“Night Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock left as quietly as he'd come in, leaving a confused and for some reason uneasy Greg Lestrade behind.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock takes the risk, Greg follows and Donovan is appalled .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GO SHERLOCK!
> 
> Next chapter (ch13) will be posted Friday 6 January  
> \-------------------------------------------------------

“Look who's here! What's up freak?”

Sally Donovan looked at Sherlock like she'd eaten a lemon in one go. Sherlock brushed past her, heading to Lestrade. Greg saw Donovan's disbelief, Sherlock always had a reply, always had a snappy comeback.

 

Today he just ignored her, walking to Lestrade with purpose and a determined look in his eyes as he took the man in.

 

Lestrade held his breath for 2 seconds, Sherlock's gaze always had that effect on him, he resisted the urge to stand straighter, to expand his chest and flex his muscles. _'Stop acting like a bloody teenager trying to impress your crush!'_

 

Sherlock's eyes softend as his eyes connected with Greg and Greg felt his heart do a flip. In the 7 months after John had left things had changed between them. Small things that made Greg have a small amount of hope. He tried to ignore it, but seeing the softness in Sherlock's eyes as they looked at each other made him feel giddy and excited.

 

“Hey Sherlock. What are you doing here?”

 

Greg turned away from Andrew and Louise and gestured to his office. Donovan threw an angry look over at Lestrade and Lestrade just raised an eyebrow.

 

“Lestrade.”

 

Sherlock nodded as he headed into his office, a touch of something in Greg's name that made sparks fly in Greg's belly. Something was different.

 

Sally turned away, heading to Mellissa Green to go over some facts of a new domestic case and Greg stepped inside his office, closing the door and the blinds before going to his chair.

 

Sherlock already sat down, one leg crossed over the other and he followed Greg with his eyes, his hands clasped together in his lap.

 

“So what's up Sherlock?”

 

Greg placed his hands on his desk, a small smile on his face as he looked Sherlock over. The man looked better, a bit more colour to his cheeks, the lines around his eyes faded and if Greg wasn't mistaken he gained a few pounds. He'd also refound some of his confidence, not flinching or walking away when someone made a nasty comment about him or John. He shot them down with a terrifying accurate deduction whenever they asked about the history between them and after a while people had stopped trying to know more.

 

“I- I think we should go on a d-date. You and me.”

 

Sherlock flushed a pale red but kept his eyes on Greg, not fidgeting or looking away. Greg blinked and swallowed. Trying to figure out if he wasn't dreaming. Sherlock gave a small smile and Greg let out an 'oh'.

 

“I did hope you had more to say.”

 

Sherlock's voice had a hint of amusement but also a touch of fear and Greg snapped his mouth closed.

 

“You want to go on a date? With me?”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 

“That's what I just said Lestrade. Do keep up.”

Greg huffed out a laugh and leaned back into his chair.

 

“Okay.”

 

Sherlock's eyes widened and he scanned Greg's face.

 

“Okay? Just like that?”

 

Greg shrugged a shoulder, his eyes going up and down Sherlock's body. Sherlock's cheeks flushed some more and Greg smirked.

 

“Just like that.”

 

Sherlock's whole face lighted up with a bright smile and Greg wanted to leap out off his chair, go round the desk and snog Sherlock senseless. He looked so much younger now, so beautiful and magical and Greg wanted nothing more then to keep him, to protect him.

 

“All-all right, This Friday, 7 pm at my place.”

 

Sherlock stood up, his eyes radiating like sunlight and he nodded at Greg sharply before opening the door and heading out.

 

“What, already going freak?! Don't you need to...”

 

But Sherlock just walked past Sally, attention already on his phone and Sally felt silent. It wasn't much fun to mock someone if that someone didn't even bother listening.

 

Greg gave a soft chuckle, the hope in his chest flaring up like wildfire. He couldn't wait for Friday to arrive.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is on as date night begins and confessions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am feeling very generous tonight so who wants the next update just a little bit sooner.... Like... Tomorrow?  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------

Greg looked over his plate at Sherlock, they were just finishing up and Greg still couldn't believe how successful their night had been.

 

He'd been nervous and slightly apprehensive at the start, pacing in front of 221 B as he talked himself into ringing the doorbell. By some miracle Sherlock emerged in front of the door, an unsure look in his eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips.

 

“Lestrade. Are you coming inside?”

 

Sherlock stepped back, gesturing to come in and Greg let out a shaky breath, looking Sherlock over before stepping inside. Sherlock looked stunning in his black, fitted trousers with a dark red shirt that showed off a bit of his pale skin and the muscles underneath. Sherlock for once didn't have a jacket on and Greg thought he looked more relaxed.

 

After that, everything had run so smoothly it still was hard for Greg to get his head around it. They'd had some non alcoholic drinks with delicious snacks and talked about their day. They'd brought up old memories over dinner, some funny, some hard but it had all been wonderful. Greg had looked in shock as Sherlock stood in the kitchen, doing the last things to get dinner ready and Sherlock had rolled his eyes.

 

“I can cook you know. I've been living alone since I was 19. I do eat occasionally.”

 

Greg had grinned and Sherlock had smiled and they'd eaten it all. Greg couldn't stop looking at Sherlock throughout the night, noticing the openness in his eyes, the softness in his posture. They'd even talked more about the John thing, about the stuff at the Yard and Sherlock had answered all the questions Greg had asked. All had been wonderful and peaceful but now the air seemed to leave the room.

 

Sherlock had asked some questions in return and for this particular one Greg didn't know what to say. Well, he did know but was hesitant to speak it out loud. If he misread this situation, if he bared out his soul and it was based on assumptions things could go wrong, horrible wrong.

 

“ _Do you want to have sex with me?”_

 

It was the same question as so many weeks ago but this time Sherlock didn't sound afraid. He'd looked at Greg with, Greg thought, hope and anticipation and Greg felt his dick stir as Sherlock watched him.

 

“Lestrade.”

 

Greg snapped his eyes back to Sherlock and took a breath before speaking.

 

“Yes. God yes.”

 

Sherlock's eyes widened and became a shade darker but before the man could stand up and get closer Greg held up a hand. He had to do this right.

 

“Sherlock. I don't just. It's not just sex. I mean, I want to, very much, but that's not enough.”

 

Sherlock tilted his head to the side, a look of impatience on his face. Greg raised an eyebrow and carried on.

 

“Don't give me that look Sherlock, I'm serious. We've known each other for a long time now. And things have happened that changed our relationship, which is good but it's something big from going to friends to this.”

 

Greg gestured between them and felt his face flush. _Dammit_! He was a grown man, he should be able to talk about this. Sherlock was still looking at him with impatience, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table. Greg reached out and placed his hand on top.

 

“Sherlock, you need to tell me. Is it just a quick shag? Something to help you deal with...”

 

Sherlock shook his head, snatching his hand out from underneath Greg's and standing up. He got up so fast his chair hit the floor with a loud bang and Greg flinched. Sherlock's eyes were stormy, his hands going up in the air.

 

“How can you even say that Lestrade! Do you really think I'm that despicable. If it was just a _quick shag_ I'd find someone else in a heartbeat! This is not about John or what has happened, this is about you. You and me. We've been dancing around each other for months now. Don't you want me? Am I not good enough for you? Are you ashamed of me? I don't understand why you haven't done anything yet! It's clear you want me, I see you looking at me, starring at my mouth or my body. I know you find me attractive and I know you fantasized about me. I'm not an idiot about these things. I was wrong with John, yes, but you are much easier to read and I know you want me. So why aren't you kissing me already?”

 

Sherlock had been pacing back and fort while his voice kept rising and his speech got faster. Now he was at Greg's side, his arms crossed, like a child that wasn't allowed a treat. He looked beautiful.

 

Greg got up slowly and Sherlock didn't move so they were standing close. Greg smelled Sherlock's cologne, felt his warmth and restless energy. Sherlock's eyes went over his body, resting on his mouth and Greg swallowed.

“Sherlock, it's not about you not being good enough, or being ashamed of you. Are you kidding? I'd be the luckiest bloke in whole England to have you by my side.”

 

Greg reached out, placing a finger on Sherlock's lips as Sherlock wanted to speak.

 

“Listen to me Sherlock, please. This is important.”

 

Sherlock huffed out a sigh of frustration, his tongue coming out to lick Greg's finger and Greg got his hand away just in time. _Sweet Jesus!_ Sherlock was not going to make this easy.

 

“It's true. I find you attractive. Hell, have you looked at yourself? You are gorgeous! Those eyes, your voice, that ridiculous cupid's bow. The way you blush when I compliment you. You are precious Sherlock. I've found you attractive from the moment we met. Being near you and not being able to touch you. Jesus, it's been torture at times Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock's mouth fell open in shock and Greg scoffed.

 

“Stop being so damn surprised, you just told me you know I find you attractive.”

 

Sherlock closed his mouth, shaking his head as he looked at Greg.

 

“Knowing something and hearing you say that are two totally different things.”

 

Sherlock blushed and Greg looked down for a second. If Sherlock didn't stop this soon he'd have him right here on the floor.

 

“Anyways, I've thought about you, about you and me for a while. I gave it up pretty soon. Someone as good looking and smart as you would never date me. It just, it seemed absurd at the time, you were so young, so different. At that time the first signs of a failed marriage were starting to show and nobody wanted a washed up cop, with a drinking problem. So, I let that silly fantasy go, being happy with just being in your life, getting to know you, the good and the bad. I don't think less of you because of your drug history Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock nodded. He knew that, Greg had been there for him when he was down at the bottom and he still looked at him with respect throughout. There had been arguments, screams and tears but they'd made it through. There bound being stronger for it.

 

“We grew closer and I knew we were friends by that point. You helped me through my divorce, coming round with coffee, staying to work on cases. I think I never told you how much that means to me. You saved me Sherlock.”

 

Greg looked down, a touch of shame on his face. Sherlock knew about the drinking in Greg's family history. He himself had trouble with alcohol and Sherlock had been the best distraction instead of drinking himself into oblivion.

 

Sherlock reached out, grabbing Greg's hand and giving it a squeeze before letting go. They still stood inches from each other.

 

“I thought then, maybe, maybe there was something more. Why else come to the station to bring me coffee, stay late to help with the paperwork? Was I seeing things? I thought about taking the plunge a million times. But, what we had was good. The trust we'd build up, the relationship that had formed. I couldn't fuck it up because of some lingering fantasies. You never once told me about your love life, I didn't know if you were straight or gay. The idea of making a move and having it blow up in my face was unbearable.”

 

Greg sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Sherlock watched him with a frown.

 

“You should have told me. Even then I...”

 

Sherlock trailed off, looking at his feet his fingers fidgeting on a button on his shirt. Red did look good on him, almost as good as purple.

 

“You hid it well then. Of course, then John came along and I knew it was over. Whatever we had, John came in and washed it all away. You were mesmerised by him, showing off to impress him and suddenly I wasn't there anymore.”

 

“Greg.”

 

Greg shook his head, a sad expression on his face.

 

“It's fine Sherlock. I get it. He'd been a soldier, a doctor. Compared to me he was a fucking star. And, above all, I wanted you to be happy. I really thought John was a good man, sometimes he stepped out of line, said something small that made me feel uneasy but I really thought you two worked.”

 

Sherlock looked down, a tight line on his face. They'd both been so wrong.

 

“Then you called me, you almost never call, and things changed again. When you came round and asked me if I was helping you because I wanted to sleep with you I wanted to punch John all over again. Partly because I did.”

 

Sherlock's head shot up and Greg's eyes widened in shock.

 

“No! I mean, I did want to sleep with you. But that's never been why I helped you. Like I said, I'm your friend first and foremost and I would never betray you like that. But it hit me that I've been wanting you, in a sexual way, for a long time and I felt disgusted with myself. Who thinks about that?! Who things about sleeping with his best friend! It made me realize again that we couldn't be together, that you'd never want me. You'd be disgusted with me and why wouldn't you be?!”

 

“Greg stop!”

 

Sherlock grabbed his arms, stopping Greg in his rant.

 

“I get that. I get what you just said but why is this relevant now. I just told you I want you.”

 

Sherlock looked lost, confused and upset and Greg hated himself for being the reason.

 

“Sherlock. I know you said this isn't because of John but what if you change your mind? Why in the world would you want me? You'll get bored of me. I'm not exciting, not a soldier. I'm already turning grey and I'm not even 45 yet. I work too much and sometimes I wake up in cold sweat because of things that happened while on the job. You shouldn't want to be with me.”

 

Sherlock shook his head, his hands cupping Greg's face.

 

“Stop being an idiot Lestrade. Don't you see it? Don't you get it? You are the best thing in my life. You like me for who I am, you challenge me to be better. You are a big reason why I finally got clean. You believe in me. I called you cause I know you are the only one that will pick up, any time, any hour. You dropped everything and come to help me. You're not a soldier no, but you are my guardian angel. You're amazing Greg. Passionate, kind, understanding. You are stunning! I adore that your hair is turning grey, it makes you look so sophisticated and sexy. You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about you, running my fingers through your hair while you claim me as yours. Screaming out my name while you come inside me. It's not just about sex Greg, it's about you. The person you are, the way you fight, the way you care. The way you look at me and see me. Not just the ex junkie, the sociopath, the genius, the freak. You see it all and more and you want me anyway. Let's stop wasting time Greg. Please, we've wasted enough. Just, just kiss me.”

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg finally gives in and promises are given.

 

Sherlock didn't wait for Greg to react, he just closed the distance between them and kissed him softly. Greg let out an embarrassing sound and pulled Sherlock closer, the tip of his tongue coming out to trace around Sherlock's lips. That damn Cupid's bow!

 

Sherlock opened his mouth and Greg let out an embarrassing sound again as their tongues connected. He traced the outline of Sherlock's mouth, tasting their dinner on his tongue and he ran his hands through Sherlock's curls. He wanted to purr at the feel of them, so soft and smooth. He pulled on a curl lightly and Sherlock gasped inside his mouth, pushing his body flat against Greg's.

 

Greg felt Sherlock's hard nipples through his shirt and he moaned, deepening the kiss and grabbing hold of Sherlock's hair.

 

He heard Sherlock panting, a moan coming from deep inside him as he brushed his cock against Greg's leg and Greg saw stars.

 

“Oh my god, Sherlock! You're going to kill me.”

 

“Not the worst way to go I imagine.”

 

Sherlock gave a wink and Greg laughed out loud, head thrown back.

 

“Yeah, but I want to do so much with you, Sunshine. Really don't want to die just yet.”

 

Greg went forward and caught Sherlock's bottom lip, biting it as he pulled it a little forward.

 

“ _Greg_.”

 

Greg moaned at the way Sherlock said his name, Sherlock's eyes where wide and dark with lust and Greg could see the outline of Sherlock's cock through his pants. His hand went down, palming it once and Sherlock gasped, his nails digging into Greg's back.

 

“Bedroom, Sunshine. I want to take you apart.”

 

Sherlock's eyes got insanely wide, he almost stumbled, leading the way to his bedroom, dragging Greg along with him.

 

It wasn't till he was half naked that he panicked slightly. Greg was standing close to him, tracing his hands over Sherlock's chest and Sherlock shivered. Greg was already naked and Sherlock had never seen anyone more beautiful. That's why he hated himself for freezing up when Greg's hands went to his pants, fumbling with the button.

 

“Sherlock? Love? If this is going too fast, I can stop.”

 

Greg let his hands drop down, reaching up to stroke Sherlock's cheek and Sherlock looked at him. It was ridiculous, Greg was standing there in front of him, butt naked, his cock deliciously hard and all Sherlock could do was panic. This could not be happening! Not now.

 

“Sherlock!”

 

Sherlock's eyes finally focused on Greg's and he gave a weak, frustrated sigh.

 

“I. I'm not a virgin. But,it's been a while since....”

Sherlock trailed off and Greg stroked his cheek again.

 

“You think it's any different for me, love? We can take it slow. There's no need to rush. What do you want to do, Sunshine?”

 

Greg kissed the tip of his noise before going to his mouth and kissing him with so much love and understanding Sherlock wanted to melt on the spot.

 

He reached out, pushing himself close to Greg, loving the feel of Greg's dick against his leg.

 

“I want to touch you, feel you, t-taste you. C-can I?”

 

Sherlock heard a sharp intake of breath, Greg pushing his dick against Sherlock's leg once and Sherlock smiled in the crook of Greg's neck.

 

“You really do plan to kill me with sex, don't you?”

 

Sherlock huffed out a laugh and looked up again, kissing Greg with everything that was in his heart. _Why had he waited so long?_

 

Greg let Sherlock push him unto the bed, looking at him as he tentatively pulled off the rest of his clothes and sat on top of him.

 

“You look like a god.”

 

Sherlock shook his head in disbelief and his hands started stroking Greg's body. Greg sighed, relaxing into Sherlock's touch and watching him as Sherlock memorized every inch of his body.

 

Greg let out a soft moan as Sherlock starting kissing and licking his chest, reaching his nipple and lightly sucking on it, going to the other nipple and doing the same there.

 

“Oh baby, that feels so good.”

 

Greg's hands went to Sherlock's arse, squeezing the cheeks and Sherlock moved, their cocks brushing together. Greg tried to stifle a growl and Sherlock laid down on top of him.Their bodies connected from head to toe.

 

Greg kept massaging Sherlock's arse, Sherlock panting as he licked at Greg's neck, biting the skin and blowing air onto it to cool it down.

 

“Damn Sherlock!”

 

Greg arched his back, the friction it caused enough to make him growl out loud now. Sherlock bit his neck, rutting against Greg's dick more frantically.

 

“Love the sounds you make. Don't stop.”

 

Sherlock panted, shifting again so he was sitting right on top of Greg's erection. He placed his hands on Greg's chest and started moving back and forth, eyes not leaving Greg's face.

 

Sweat was beginning to form between their bodies, the tip of Greg's dick releasing drops of pre come that helped slick the movement of Sherlock's dick against his own.

 

Greg was mesmerized by Sherlock on top of him, his nails digging into Greg's chest as he rutted against him. Sherlock's face was flushed, just like his neck and the tip of his ears and drops of sweat were on Sherlock's forehead, his curls dampening as he moved faster and faster.

 

Greg's nails digged into Sherlock's arse, increasing the friction and Greg couldn't stop moaning and growling. He bit his bottom lip, trying to be more quite but Sherlock stopped his movements, Greg bucking up helplessly.

 

“Make noise Greg. Let me hear how good it is. Don't hold back.”

 

Greg's breath caught and he nodded, moaning as Sherlock started moving again, his head thrown back in pleasure and Greg would never forgot how beautiful he looked in that moment.

 

Soon Sherlock's movements turned frantic and more sloppy. Greg hissed as Sherlock's nails went deeper inside his skin and he grabbed tighter at Sherlock's arse.

 

“C'mon, Sunshine, that's it. You're almost there, I can see it. C'mon for me love, c'mon for me. Let me see you!”

 

Greg pushed up, growling as he slapped them hard together and Sherlock came screaming his name. It was the most sexy thing Greg had ever seen and feeling Sherlock's cum land on his stomach was enough to have him come too.

 

Greg felt Sherlock shake around him as the last of his orgasm went through him and soon Sherlock was collapsing on top of him, totally blessed out. Their cum was sticky onto their stomach and Greg nudge Sherlock off him, nestling the man beside him as he reached out for his shirt to clean them up.

 

“You okay?”

 

Greg looked Sherlock over, seeing the marks he'd made on Sherlock's arse.

 

“Damnit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rough.”

 

He reached out, lightly bruising the marks and Sherlock flinched a little. He look over at Greg, rolling his eyes.

 

“Don't be silly. I liked it. I wasn't gentle either.”

 

Sherlock's eyes trailed over Greg's body with a smirk on his mouth. His eyes shone with contentment and pride as he looked at the marks he'd made on Greg's chest and neck.

 

Greg's heart stopped again and he regretted not being younger. He layed down next to Sherlock, kissing him lazily and Sherlock moaned into his mouth.

 

“I'll never get tired of this.”

 

Greg said as he broke the kiss, reaching for the covers and bundling them up. Sherlock wrapped himself around Greg, his head in the crook of his neck, his legs tangled around him, like he'd always belonged there.

 

Greg wrapped his arms around him and stroked his back, planting a kiss on his curls.

 

“Are you okay? With all this, really?”

 

Greg saw Sherlock's face change into a frown.

 

“I just want to be sure love. I want you to be happy. If that's not with me then.”

 

“Greg! Stop it. I want you. We'll make this work.”

 

Greg blinked, looking at Sherlock who was falling to sleep fast.

 

“You sure?”

 

Greg whispered and Sherlock opened his eyes again, looking up.

 

Yes, I'm sure. I love you, I've loved you for a long time. I'm not going away and I'll do the best I can to make this, _us_ , work.”

 

Sherlock planted a kiss on Greg's lips and slid back down, nestling himself even closer to Greg.

 

“Love me? You, love me?”

 

“Yes, now stop talking. I'm tired.”

 

Greg smiled fondly as Sherlock grumbled, his head disappearing underneath the covers, just a few curls visible.

 

“We'll make this work.”

 

Greg whispered like an idiot, a big grin on his face. He moved, trying to find a good position to sleep in and looked up at the ceiling for a while, Sherlock's breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep.

 

They'd come a long way this year and Greg was sure it wouldn't always be easy but just like Sherlock had said, they'd make it work cause they loved each other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end! I hope you liked it and if you did don't be shy to leave me a comment here or come talk to me on Tumblr! I love talking about my fics, it makes me happy.   
> And if you don't know already, I started a new Sherstrade slow burn fic Wednesday called A safe trip to home, 18 chapters, updated every week. Hope to see you there.   
> \-------------------------------------------------------------  
> If I made any mistakes or you want to tell me how you liked it you can comment here or on my tumblr: http://readingfanficswatchingshows.tumblr.com/
> 
> If you want me to add tags you can send me an email to: KallistoIndrani@hotmail.com
> 
> I have a blog where you can find sneek peeks, updates and writer's tips: http://readingfanficswrites.tumblr.com/


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